


Savior

by ewinkie



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Iroh being Iroh, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Katara (Avatar), POV Zuko (Avatar), Sort Of, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Tags Are Hard, Zuko getting the not-as-much-of-a-jerk-as-you-could've-been award, it's kinda funny that that's a tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:40:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25495510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewinkie/pseuds/ewinkie
Summary: It's tradition for fire nation royalty to burn their soulmarks to ensure their focus on their country. The whole concept of soulmates has never really preyed on Zuko's mind.In the South Pole, the adults always know who their children's soulmates are, since the tribe is that small. Katara knows that her soulmate does not, in fact, live in the South Pole. She's grown up with fairytales to distract from the surrounding destruction, and is excited for her adventure and romance of a lifetime.Then, everything changed when the pirates attacked.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar), minor Kanna/Pakku, minor Sokka/Yue - Relationship
Comments: 33
Kudos: 158





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this fic has been festering in my brain for a little while now. Correction, it has been festering since I read Oracle Bones (which you can read here https://archiveofourown.org/works/5253290), and there was this one moment when Katara gets captured by Zuko/the pirates, and hopes he doesn't see her soulmark.
> 
> I've honestly changed almost everything about the premise of the fic, the exchange that happens, and the story in the future (which I do plan to write), but I thought it best to give credit to what originally gave me this idea.
> 
> Also, I obviously don't own ATLA. If I did, Zutara would've been canon.

The tradition had been started by Azulon. It was marketed to the people as a symbol of their leaders’ devotion to their country, a sign that the Fire Nation came before everything, including the pairing of their own souls. But it didn’t exactly take a genius to deduce that its true purpose was the simplification of marriages.

With their soulmarks burned at a young age, Azulon’s children could not search for their soulmates, even if they wanted to, enabling Ozai to marry Avatar Roku’s granddaughter. Once this fact was set in stone, she too, as a future member of the royal family, had to part with her soul mark. For someone to marry one who was _not_ their soulmate was considered a violation of the spirits’ wishes, and a cruelty to both those involved and their soulmates, so to lose them also kept public outcry at bay; there was no way of telling if the couple in question were or weren’t soulmates. In the case of Ursa and Ozai, they were unlucky, as were their soulmates (or at least Ursa’s, given the ongoing debate as to whether or not Ozai even had a soul).

Iroh, on the other hand, was lucky. While his mark had become a band of burned skin around his wrist before he was even old enough to read it, his soulmate’s had not. When they met by pure chance (or perhaps the will of the spirits), the words he uttered were the very same as those etched on her wrist. Azulon, having not yet decided who Iroh should marry, had little choice but to allow their romance and eventual marriage.

Luckily, she had been a fairly well-off girl, and not some peasant. The burning of their soulmarks also ensured a certain degree of purity for the throne; no royal would marry too far below their class (everyone was _a bit_ below their class, they were royals, after all), and if some filth showed up claiming to be someone’s soulmate, there could be no way to tell for certain, or exploit the mark by intentionally saying the first words a soulmate should.

When Zuko sacrificed his mark, he knew very little of this history and these complex political reasons. He only remembered how Azula, upon hearing of the tradition, had swiftly burned her own mark in yet another successful attempt to impress her father and grandfather. He remembered the cold eyes of his grandfather, matched by the even colder eyes of his father (he saw that same expression again when he gained the scar on his face). He remembered a searing pain on his right wrist. And he remembered his mother secretly crying a lot afterwards, for reasons then unbeknownst to him.

Yet in spite of it all, he was proud of his own commitment to his nation. This may, in part, have been because he had the view of many young children: romance was gross. Even once banished (by which point romance was considerably less gross, no matter how much he denied it to his uncle), the scar on his wrist stood in sharp contrast to the one on his face.

It was one of honor.

* * *

Katara had always loved the thrill and romance of soulmates. In the Southern Water Tribe, the elders tended to know who yours was from an early age, as they met each other and said those first, sacred words often when too young to remember, let alone read the mark! There were, of course, a select few, to which Katara and her brother belonged, whose soulmates were not in the Southern Water Tribe.

This was part of why Katara knew leaving to help Aang was the right thing to do, and probably why Gran Gran let the siblings leave; the spirits had given them other halves (in Sokka’s case, one in solid black, and another a mere outline, indicating they’d be different people at different points in his life) outside the tribe, and must therefore be destined to leave.

Whether because the marks were sacred, or because people liked to have _some_ say in their destinies, the marks were very personal, and were typically wrapped in cloth. This way, the romance could take its own course, and nobody could pretend to be your soulmate.

And even though she kept hers under wraps, Katara was _excited_ to meet her soulmate. Especially given the nature of the characters on her wrist. Her life was going to be like a fairytale!

* * *

Fairytales, Katara decided, were pretty annoying. Well, correction. Taking care of her brother and Aang non-stop was exhausting, and led to an easily annoyed Katara. This easily annoyed Katara was pissed off by Aang’s easy mastery of waterbending, and more so, the fact that she knew _absolutely nothing!_

Contrary to what Sokka may think, Katara had not stolen the scroll for her own selfish purposes. Well, she had partly, because it was a bit humiliating to suck so bad that some kid (yes, she knew he was the avatar) who’d never waterbended before was better than her, but she had other reasons. If she could waterbend better, then she could teach Aang better waterbending, even before they got to the North Pole. And that way, not only could she better defend their team, but Aang would be better too!

And, in all honesty, the chances of Katara getting hurt by pirates was pretty slim. Sokka did not know this. Aang did not know this.

 _It’s for the greater good_ , she told her already sleep-deprived self as she crawled out of her sleeping bag. She stretched her exposed wrists (why cover up her soulmark as she slept?), snagged the scroll, and snuck out to the river. Just a few minutes, and she’d have mastered the water whip, and would go to bed. How hard could it be?

Very. Very hard. Especially since the spirits chose this moment (of all moments!) to mock her. As she attempted to bend the water yet again, she _finally_ executed a successful whip! But accidentally aimed it at herself, getting smacked _hard_ in the head. She then proceeded to stager backwards and hit her head yet again on a tree branch. Ugh! Still, she stood up, head spinning slightly and tried again. And again. Growing more frustrated and more dizzy with each attempt.

Discouraged and angry, but not still not ready to give up, she turned away from the river to take a few deep, calming breaths. And bumped right into one of the pirates from earlier.

Shit.

This was. . . not what she’d signed up for when it came to her lack of fear towards the pirates. It was night, and though she was not afraid of the dark per-say, it didn’t exactly create the safest mood. No longer was she in the crowded harbor, where passersby could intervene, or at least discourage the foulest of behavior. She was a young girl, her head was _still spinning_ , and she was, for all intents and purposes, alone with a bunch of dishonorable pirates.

She backed up quickly on nothing but instinct and adrenaline, and began to turn around so she could run away properly, but she stumbled frantically, and then—

For some reason her mind wasn’t foggy. _Huh_. She wasn’t exactly given the chance to puzzle over this conundrum, because as soon as she realized this fact, she was struck with a new realization. Zuko was right in front of her, nay, holding her by the wrists, and he was saying “I’ll save you from the pirates,” with what could only be described as an evil smirk.

 _No. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be_ , she thought. But the dizziness was back shortly thereafter, and the his golden eyes were getting farther and farther away. The last thing she registered before losing consciousness completely was her wrists being releasing, and an arm wrapping around her waist.

* * *

It had truly been a brilliant plan! Not only had Zuko managed to strike a deal with the pirates, but the waterbender girl, _Katara_ , his brain supplied of its own accord, was making such a ruckus that he was shocked her companions could even sleep!

Still, it was going a bit _too_ well. He noted that she hadn’t noticed the pirates until she bumped right into them, and even then, it took her much longer than it usually would for her to react. No matter. Whatever the reason, it wasn’t important. He had her, and that was all that mattered.

Why he felt the urge to say that he’d “save her from the pirates” was beyond him, and frankly, a cruelty he hadn’t intended. _Although_ , he thought as she stared up at him with an unreadable expression (it didn’t quite seem like it was _only_ fear), _to enable the pirates to hurt her unnecessarily_ would _be dishonorable_.

Before he could decipher her expression, let alone ask about the avatar, she was falling over backwards. Acting out of pure instinct, he released her wrists, and caught her by the waist with one arm. He then tucked the other behind her head, and gently lowered her to the ground.

Now confused as to what the heck he was going to do, he looked frantically at his uncle, who merely shrugged confusedly. He glanced down at his unconscious prisoner, who had began to sprout a large purple bruise on top of her head. _Well that explains the whole fainting thing_ , he thought, remembering the strength she usually displayed under these circumstances. He was just about to stand up from his crouched position, but he did a double take as he briefly took in her soulmark.

“I’ll save you–”

 _No._ That was ridiculous. There was no way he’d seen the words he thought he’d just seen. And even if it was, given the journey she was taking, there’d be _plenty_ of chances for someone to save her, and say those words to her.

“Prince Zuko?” his uncle called. “Is everything alright?” The words seemed distant and far away.

Ever so gingerly, he turned over her wrist and read the remainder of the phrase. _I’ll save you from the pirates_.

It didn’t have to mean anything. For all he knew, someone at the harbor could have even offered to save her when she first stole the scroll. This may not even be her first or last run in with pirates. While the logical part of his brain fed him these thoughts, the emotional side absentmindedly muttered the words in question while tracing over them with his thumb. And to his dismay, it was with the voice of a scared adolescent, not a strong leader that he croaked out, “Uncle?”

Iroh shuffled over concernedly. “Prince Zuko, what is–oh my.” By this point, Zuko was reading and rereading Kataras marks, unsure of whether to hope they meant or didn’t mean it was him. A wet splotch landed on her. Zuko hadn’t even registered the fact that he was crying. “Uncle, what do we do now?” He was trying desperately to keep his voice steady. Suddenly aware that _everyone_ could see and hear him right now, he stood up and tried to address more practical matters. “The girl is unconscious. We will remain here and interrogate her once she wakes.”

“Why wait? Why not wake her up right now?” one of the pirates snarled menacingly, staring down at Zuko.

“See that bruise on her forehead? She’s clearly sustained some sort of head injury. To wake her prematurely could increase the damage, and she may even lose her memories about the avatar’s whereabouts and plans!” Though he did not back down, Zuko was very aware of how weak this line of reasoning was. Waking her prematurely probably wouldn’t increase the damage (and she hadn’t seemed all that damaged when it came to memory; she’d remembered and been scared of the pirates). Frantic to change the subject before the pirates realized this, he said “What’s it matter to you? I’m sure the scroll is around here somewhere, you could just grab it and be on your way.”

“And just let her get away with it?”

“Punishing the girl was never part of our deal. Besides, is being taken prisoner by the fire nation and used to track down her friends not punishment enough for you?”

The look the pirate gave Katara made all the hairs on the back of Zuko’s neck stand up, and it took all his strength to not back down as the pirate simply stated. “No. It isn’t. After all, you seem to be quite keen on protecting her. How do we know she’ll experience real pain. We wouldn’t even know if she got what she deserved. We wouldn’t get to hear her begging for mercy.”

“Her punishment was not part of the deal.” Zuko reiterated. The other pirates (having now retrieved the scroll) had begun to loosely encircle Zuko, where he stood, and Katara, where she lay helplessly.

Then, there was the swipe of a sword and a burst of flame, and all hell broke loose.

* * *

Her head hurt. A lot. She didn’t even need to open her eyes or feel her head to know that there was a massive bruise there, and something wrong.

Once accustomed to the pain, she became aware that her head was not on its usual pillow. It was elevated, but on something. . . hard. Was that a rock? She also wasn’t in her sleeping bag, but on the ground itself. And. . . was that tea she smelled?

Just as she was about to open her eyes to scout her surroundings, she felt a cool, damp cloth being placed on her forehead. This was _really_ strange. The idea of Sokka or Aang making tea was odd enough (Sokka had, quite literally, set boiling water on fire once), but she’d just chalked that up to herbs growing around them. But draping a cloth onto her forehead? Aang and Sokka knew next to nothing about First Aid, and, besides that, would probably have woken her up the second they awoke so she could make breakfast. Unless she was _seriously_ injured. Uh oh.

Cautiously, she opened her eyes, then looked in the direction of the tea smell, where what seemed to be a kind old man was holding three cups, and offering one to her. She took it and held it to her nose before giving in and drinking it.

“I am very glad to see that you’re awake, miss. . .”

“Katara.”

“Miss Katara. You really gave us quite a scare. Is your head feeling okay?”

“It’s certainly painful, but I’ve had worse.” She winced as she attempted to raise a reassuring eyebrow. “I think. . . Do I know you?” The man had an air of familiarity to him, but couldn’t recall anything specific. He cautiously raised his tea to his lips and help it there, drinking slowly for a long moment before responding, “I’m afraid that our prior meetings have been brief, and unfortunately not on the best of terms.”

Katara’s spinning thoughts as to how she could have possibly been on bad terms with such a kind old man were interrupted by aloud splashing noise, followed by angry mutterings, which slowly diminished back into silence. For the first time since waking up, she looked at the river, just a few yards away.

Blood stains and burn marks marred the once smooth shore. A small fire nation vessel was sitting in the calm waters. But what caught her attention first was Prince Zuko, in all his scarred glory, pacing back and forth, tossing, nay, chucking, rocks into the river, muttering angrily.

And then she remembered last night’s events. The realization that the violent brute a few paces, the guy who was trying to capture a twelve-year-old, for Tui’s sake, was her soulmate. She still didn’t understand the damage to the ground, or the lack of damage to herself.

“What. . .” She didn’t know if she could trust the man before her anymore, but he seemed kind enough, and needed answers. “What happened?”

With once last sympathetic glance towards the fire prince, the old man turned back to Katara with a somewhat sheepish look on his face. “After you lost consciousness, Miss Katara, the pirates with whom we were working–yes, I know, not the wisest move, but my nephew is the one in charge here–had access to the scroll. You see, our deal had been that they’d get the scroll, but nothing else was specified, so my nephew assumed they’d be satisfied with that. Please forgive his naivety, he tends to place a great weight on his own honor and expects others to do the same.” Was he talking about the same boy over by the river? The man took a deep breath. “They weren’t. They wanted to see you ‘punished’,” Katara flinched, “for stealing the scroll. Zuko saw no reason for you to be harmed, and refused. That’s when the fight broke out.” He now shook his head. 

Zuko had. . . saved her then? And used his own crew (powerful bender though he was, he couldn’t have possibly fought off all the pirates himself, she hoped) to do so? This must be a trick.

“Now, Miss Katara, I recommend you return to your friends now. Your wounds are not so fresh that you cannot travel, and it’d be best for everyone if you were not taken prisoner."

“How do I know you won’t follow me back to the others?”

“Would my word be of any meaning to you?” the old man grimaced.

She was surprised to say, “Yes, actually.” Fire nation he may be, but he had taken care of her, and seemed. . .kind. Worldly. Trustworthy, somehow. Not to mention the fact that they hadn’t burned down the forest to find Aang.

As she walked back to camp, she looked over her shoulder the whole time. To ensure nobody was following her, she told herself.

But that didn’t explain why it was it was the prince and not the uncle she found herself glancing at more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading folks!  
> Please leave comments/kudos/etc.!
> 
> Also, Katara's injury isn't gonna be a huge issue or plot point down the line. I just wanted her to faint and Zukoto catch her for my own selfish reasons, but she's clearly not a damsel in distress who'd faint at danger. And given the fact that she does water whip herself in the show, it didn't feel like too much of a stretch. Feel free to tell me what you think, though!
> 
> I also skipped the fight scene for personal reasons. Those reasons are that it a) seemed very tricky, and b) would not contain any details of importance to the fic. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> I'm not sure yet if I want to rewrite every Zutara interaction in the whole series in this fic, so we'll see what I include down the line, but I definitely have plans for the catacombs *insert evil grin*.


	2. Chapter 2

Katara cursed Sokka’s Instincts. Was he wrong that Appa made them easy to track? Of course not! But had Appa ever led to them being found before? Not to her knowledge! Was it fun to trudge through the forest on foot? Nope! Not one bit!

And, the _cherry on top_ , would the pirates have any clue as to where they could possibly be, putting their little group in danger, yes, but enabling some kind, handsome soul to save them, freeing Katara from the fate of having _Zuko_ as a soulmate, and replacing an angry fire demon hell-bent on hurting the world’s only hope and leaving everyone to burn with, well, literally any other guy (ideally at least somewhat close to her age) in the world? Why no, they would not. Poor Sokka and his instincts had no idea what they were condemning Katara to, and there was no way she was going to tell him.

That was the worst thing about Sokka’s instincts. The second worst was that all this damned walking gave her plenty of time to think, and her brain was, at the moment, a little bit confused. Much as she hoped there’d be some evidence to the contrary, everything she knew now told her that Zuko, spawn of the Firelord himself, was her soulmate. And, well, some small part of her brain had decided that _no, being the spawn of the Firelord doesn’t mean he_ has _to be evil_ , and that _he seemed kind of muscle-y when he caught me after I fainted,_ and _he treated me pretty well, all things considered_.

And much as the rational remainder of her brain tried to snuff out that traitorous part (who takes the time to consider the muscles of enemy’s body in that way?!), she could not refute that last statement. He had protected her from the pirates when he didn’t really have anything to gain from it, he hadn’t really constrained her after she fainted, or tried to interrogate her (but he certainly would’ve done so if she was awake, she reasoned, so that didn’t quite count). And he and his uncle had taken care of her post-injury, and let her go, which could’ve been mostly his uncle’s doing, she thought, desperate for anything to refute the possibility of a future with Zuko.

Sokka’s terrified squeal gave her momentary hope that the pirates had returned, and someone, _anyone_ , would come to rescue them. But, it turned out to be a cluster of fire nation soldiers. As if the spirits weren’t pushing her far enough today as it was, here came yet another chance for her to fail at her own protection, and nearly die. And while she wasn’t totally useless in the battle that soon followed, she didn’t hold a candle to the boy with the straw who saved them. _If only he could’ve been my soulmate._

* * *

Katara was in the process of thanking every spirit alive that a) Jet was _not_ her soulmate and b) she was a good enough waterbender to freeze him successfully to a tree. Honestly, who, in good conscious, flooded an _entire village containing innocents_. She shook her head, as she attempted to purge her prior thoughts about Jet, this seemingly perfect boy with hair that was both smooth and spiky, and a velvety voice that just sang appraisal at her–at her _waterbending abilities_. She scoffed. Had he actually cared? Or had his soft looks and quick smooch been nothing more than an attempt to manipulate her?

Probably the latter. She was far too trusting, and scolded herself yet again for her naivety. Unasked for, she remembered words said by a riverbank accompanied by a steaming cup of expertly brewed tea. _Please forgive his naivety, he tends to place a great weight on his own honor and expects others to do the same_.

For one terrifying moment, she was comparing herself to Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation. The relief she felt upon telling herself that Zuko was, in fact, one of, if not _the_ least honorable person she had met was accompanied by a pit in her stomach, and the ghost of warm hands catching her as she fell.

* * *

“Katara,” Sokka whined.

“I swear, if you mention that non-existent wart on your mouth-flap-thingy one more time, I will freeze you to the ground and leave you there!”

“No, I was just going to ask how you believed any of this stuff? Do you really think that what this woman tells you is going to be true?” The answer to that question was complicated. All her other predictions, up to this point, had been true, so that was, as Sokka would put it, empirical evidence in her favor (even if it was just two data points). So she was going to choose to believe it, in the hopes that. . . well in the hopes that this Aunt Wu lady would assuage her. . . concerns regarding her soulmate, _whom she had yet to meet_.

But as she badgered Aunt Wu with seemingly frivolous questions about the height of the man she was going to marry, she met a confused look.

“Child, it is written all over you that you have most of this information already.”

“Wha—”

“You. . . are aware that you’ve met your soulmate, right? And that so long as you share this bond, while you may experience other romances, there will be a pull to this person?” Katara _really_ wanted this lady to be a fraud now.

With a deep breath, Katara explained how things were in the water tribe, how most of the time you met your soulmate when you were too young to remember. It wasn’t _technically_ a lie, it just. . . didn’t actually apply to the situation she hoped wasn’t real.

“I see a great romance for you.” Well that was somewhat encouraging? At least she wouldn’t be forced into anything. _Not that Zuko seemed the forcing type, when you really looked at it._ Where did that come from? Katara would _not_ be entering any sort of romance with Zuko, and he therefore could not be her soulmate.

“Your husband is going to be a very powerful bender.” _Well that certainly did fit Zuko._ While Katara feigned girlish excitement, on the inside she thought one very unladylike word.

Shit.

* * *

Jet’s betrayal had felt like a slap in the face, a method of waking up a poor soul unconscious to the true world around them. So when Aang had told her, Bato, and Sokka that he’d had the location of her father–her _father_ , her sole remaining parent, who she hadn’t seen in years, and hadn’t even known if he was alive or dead or imprisoned or ever coming back– for the past few days, she’d expected a similar sensation.

Instead, it was like being yanked into freezing cold water, and watching it freeze into ice above her head. She was banging against it for air, for some consolation, some small hope that she’d misheard him. But she hadn’t.

The worst part about the icy depths in which she now swam was that there was a certain familiarity to them. She’d been here when Aang encouraged her to enter the old, _dangerous_ , fire nation ship, and subsequently set off the booby trap. She’d been here when he lied about being the Avatar. She’d been here when he got carried away by his fangirls on Kiyoshi island, and she’d been here when Aang flew through all her waterbending moves, and got mad at her for wanting to use the scroll to learn more. Heck, if she hadn’t had to teach herself _in the middle of the night_ , she wouldn’t have run into the pirates, and–nope, not gonna follow that train of thought.

Everytime she’d been here, Aang’s compassion and kindness had broken through the surface before any real memory of this drowning feeling remained. But now? It was hard to believe she’d get the chance see the sun through the ever thickening ice again. She reached up to her mother’s necklace for comfort, only to discover that, once again, it was not there.

In this case, it was Sokka’s confirmation that they’d be most useful to the world by helping Aang that saved her. Well, not totally, but he breathed a warm spot, a window onto the ice.The young monk wasn’t perfect; no one was, but he was, after all, the world’s only hope. Not to mention that he was still just a kid, and would likely die if they didn’t help (today’s events alone confirmed that the bright-eyed monk, while armed with a cheery disposition, was not equipped to handle important decisions.

Just as she was about to chuckle, Sokka held out an arm in front of her, and she was broken from her reverie by the clanging of some large creature. What is was, Katara didn’t know, and didn’t care. What she did care about was that the first things she saw of the attacking trio (group of four, if you included the monster) were Zuko’s golden eyes.

* * *

For someone so young, Zuko had experienced a shocking number of moments when death seemed preferable to life. Right now, hearing about how impressed Iroh (he did not deserve the title of Uncle at the moment) was with this bounty hunter and her crazy. . . um. . . animal? was one of them. He chose to distract himself from this present agony (given the choice between his first Agni Kai, and this moment, he’d choose the former), by considering how to capture the Avatar.

It was a very well-worn topic, but with new discoveries each time he pondered it. And, it just so happened (Uncle would say that it always does) that what he was avoiding was the very solution to his problems. If he could only put up with Uncle’s behavior with the bounty hunter for a little while.

Once this plan was presented to Iroh (who was demoted once more after his sheer excitement at more time spent with crazy-mole-lady), the duo began their storm towards the tavern, and, all in all, things were going great. Like, having-a-family-dinner-within-the-next-month great. Until, much to Iroh’s chagrin, June explained that they needed something with the scent of the person they were tracking.

“Miss June, is there another way? We haven’t exactly had an opportunity to ask this person for any belongings, you see,” Uncle said with a chuckle. And. . .well. . .there was another way. He didn’t know why he felt so vehemently opposed to it; this was what it took to find the Avatar, restore his honor, and reclaim his birthright. He rolled up his sleeve and braced himself. There was no reason for every fibre of his being to scream in agony as the necklace belonging to his soulmate– _the Avatar’s waterbender_ , he corrected– was carefully untied from his wrist.

Uncle raised a knowing eyebrow, which stood in contradiction to the sad eyes he was showing Zuko. June didn’t react much better.

“What happened? Your girlfriend run off on you?”

Zuko scowled, as he willed his cheeks not to turn red. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh, so you just keep her necklace with you at all times for some different reason?” His blood betrayed him, and his cheeks pinkened. “Aww, how sweet, he has feelings after all,” June teased.

“It’s not the girl I’m after, it’s the bald monk she’s traveling with.”

“Oh, is your head shaved like that cause you’re intimidated by him? Rookie mistake, don’t let her know you’re scared she’ll leave in such a stupid way, or she’ll be out the door in two seconds flat.” As Zuko sputtered, he looked to Uncle for aid, only to see him laughing so hard he was silent. “Also, I’m not sure taking out her new guy will help your case that much. It’s a miracle she gave you that necklace at all.”

This was going to be a long trip.

* * *

It was, in fact a long trip. Just as the teasing was had begun to subside, the trio (sorry Nyla) stopped in front of a fortune teller. Because Katara had spent a lot of time there.

A war didn’t stop girly stupidity, apparently. But he had no time for such frivolities, and leapt off of Nyla to re-present the necklace. His gratefulness that they weren’t staying longer increased ten-fold when Iroh (demoted again) starting flirting with the fortune teller.

He went so far as to wish he hadn’t dodged Nyla’s tongue when the old lady called after them, “Goodluck finding your soulmate, young one!”. June only smirked in anticipation.

* * *

Katara had pissed off the spirits. How, she didn’t know, but her best friend had just kept them from their father, and she was now being paralyzed and plopped onto a monster by none other than Prince Zuko. Her “soulmate” (she was one more capture away from not believing in that crap altogether).

With what little strength she had, she craned up her neck (the only part of her body, save her face, she could actually feel) to look around while being hoisted onto the creature, and found her eyes trained on a scrap of blue fabric in Zuko’s hand. He turned around, just as she narrowed her gaze.

* * *

Pissed though she seemed, there was something beautiful about her eyes. Almost like the waves on Ember Island. He would’ve had more time to admire them – _what?!_ – if she hadn’t began snarling at him.

“You used my _dead mother_ ’s necklace to track us down?! That’s a new low, even for you,” she spat, in clear defiance, despite her extremely precarious situation.

 _Perhaps she trusts that I will not harm her, unless it is absolutely necessary_.

But as her words sank in, he realized he had already done so. The pain of losing his mother was reignited, like a scab being ripped off an old wound, and he felt immense regret. Avatar be damned, this girl (who’s father wasn’t around either, by the looks of the South Pole) whose eyes were had been softly pleading through her angry gaze did not deserve that pain. In that moment, he just wanted to make it up to her. The imminent teasing didn’t even cross his mind.

* * *

Aang had smashed the ice. He’d saved them all, the nuns included, and successfully faced off the Firelord’s wicked spawn once again. Still, she remembered how cold she’d felt for those couple of hours when she didn’t trust him.

She was still sad to have missed that chance to see her one living parent once more, but she couldn’t let Sokka, much less Aang, see that right now. She settled on her new habit of reaching for her empty collarbone, but as she began the motion, her own hand distracted her.

Tied carefully on her wrist, loose enough for comfort, but tight enough to ensure its safety, with both ends of the knot perfectly symmetrical, was her mother’s necklace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I wrote the entire Bato section at 1am last night, because inspiration struck, and I had to not let go of it. 
> 
> So. . . we did not reach the crystal catacombs today. We will at some point, but in the next chapter, you can expect the fight at the North Pole, and maybe some pieces from the beginning of season two. Rest assured, I still have my big plans, there's just ground to cover beforehand.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading! Please keep kudos-ing, commenting, bookmarking, etc. It really makes my day!!


	3. Chapter 3

As he stared up at the ceiling, Zuko wondered how many times he had counted those screws, and how many times he would count them again. His riveting train of thought was interrupted by a knocking at his door.

“I thought I said I didn’t want to be disturbed!” He bellowed. As the door began opening _regardless_ , Zuko noticed that the intruder seemed to be carrying a tray with a teapot, some leaves, and several cups.

“I thought that after the events of the past few days, it might be good for you to talk things out over a cup of soothing jasmine tea.” His uncle smiled and spoke in his calmest tone. It made Zuko feel pathetic, as though he was some wounded animal that needed to be coaxed out of a cage to be fed and watered. For Agni’s sake, he was the Fire Prince, heir to the throne, and destined to finally capture the Avatar! But he knew that his uncle’s intent was out of kindness, not pity, nor scorn. And jasmine tea _was_ his favorite, after all.

“Okay.” Uncle smiled and sat down, carefully maintaining the temperature of the water as he did so. On anyone else, that skill would seem show-offish. But his Uncle used it solely for the purpose of obtaining his tea as soon as he could while maintaining proper flavor. “But these past few days have been fine. I haven’t found the Avatar yet, but I think I’m close. June and her Shirshu almost worked!”

Uncle raised an eyebrow. “And you feel perfectly content chasing the Avatar and his companions?” The special emphasis he put on the last three words blocked out Zuko’s train of thought (it had been something about never having been content).

“Yes.”

Uncle had now begun to pour the tea into the two cups, making sure to do Zuko’s first. The scent of the jasmine almost wiped the determined scowl off his face. “Prince Zuko, you did not seem to have this sentiment just after the Avatar’s companions were captured.”

If he’d actually begun to drink the tea, he probably would have choked. The complete (and relieving) lack of teasing following him returning Katara’s, _the avatar’s waterbender’s_ , necklace had made him think the gesture had gone unnoticed, but apparently not.

It didn’t _have_ to mean anything, though. He could take pity on anyone he wanted, whether or not the spirits _supposedly_ wanted them to be together. He had no further use for the necklace, _except for its oddly comforting feel on my wrist, just like this tea_. It was only honorable to return the trinket, _it’s not just a trinket, she lost her_ mother _._

Zuko looked up, quickly rearranging his features back into one of indifference, and lifted his head, askinghimself, _when had he looked down? When had he began to frown with a true ache, instead of sheer rage?_ Just as he was about to respond that he had no clue what Uncle was talking about–

“Gah!” He tried to muffle his scream and slow his breathing. The teacup fell to the floor and shattered, jasmine tea spilling out everywhere as he curled his hands into his core. “Wha-what’s going on?” he panted, reaching his hands up to examine the source of the pain, the likes of which he’d only felt twice before.

But his hands were not red with burns, as his brain had treacherously informed him. Uncle walked around the short table, looked sadly down at Zuko’s hands, and gripped him by the shoulder, pulling him into a hug as his nephew cried in front of him for the first time in years. Zuko would’ve felt embarrassed or weakened, was he not preoccupied with his more pertinent pain and confusion.

“My nephew, I believe I know what this is.” Zuko hiccuped. “But now is not the time to discuss such things, it could only make you feel worse.” _How?_ Zuko wanted to say, but found himself merely sobbing in response. “All we can do right now is wait and hope that the pain will subside.”

* * *

The scream that Katara let out once free from the confines of the building (Palace? Hall?) and its small-minded occupants was borderline animalistic.

“Katara, I know you’re upset that Master Pakku won’t let you learn waterbending from him, but. . . well, he’s honestly not that good of a teacher. All he does is tell me I’m mooving the water, but I’m not feeeeling it. You seriously aren’t mi–“ As the avatar complained about how awful his teacher was, Katara tried to suppress her rage. It wasn’t his fault that she wasn’t allowed to fight here. It wasn’t his fault that there were no waterbenders in the South. It wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t having a good time with his teacher.

It was, however, rather tactless of him to complain about all this to her. The embers of rage which she had tried so desperately to smother overpowered her and ignited at his suggestion that she wasn’t missing anything.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Aang, that your teacher isn’t a kind teddy bear! Meanwhile, I don’t even _get_ to learn how to fight, and now I probably never will. Who else is there to teach me? Hmm?”

“Katara, I–“

“No, Aang. This is _exactly_ like what happened with Jeong Jeong. You find one of the only people capable and willing to teach you how to bend, and you reject them because you’re not having a good enough time!” She was now shaking; those embers had erupted into a fire to rival the one Aang had burned her with.

“Katara, I’m sorry.” Well, crap, now Aang felt guilty. Her heart broke at how crestfallen his usually cheerful features appeared. “I should have realized how insensitive it was of me to complain about something you aren’t even allowed to do.” That was all she had wanted from him, right?

Sighing, she spoke. “I’m sorry too, Aang. It’s not your fault that they have such stupid rules here. It was wrong of me to take out my frustrations with them on you. I just–“ she stopped midsentence. Suddenly she felt very, very scared. Not the sort of fear that can be mistaken for stress, or a concern for the future. In that instant, she did not believe she was safe.

Then an agonizing pain ripped through her entire body.

“Katara?” Aang had gotten a few steps in front of her, and apparently noticed that she had fallen behind. He’d called her name with his usual cheerfulness, but concern began to etch over his young face the longer she went without responding.

As she looked up to respond, she managed to glimpse at his face, before her legs weakened, and her eyes found the moon. She could just barely make out Aang calling for help over the sound of her ears ringing, _why were they ringing?_

She was vaguely aware of being lifted and carried somewhere, but her head was spinning, and everything ached. It felt as though she’d been crushed by a rock, or fallen off of a cliff. Her wrist positively _burned_ , and she didn’t realize just how short her breath was until she was able to make out Yugoda’s calming voice.

“That’s it child, just breath in and out, in and out.”

“What’s– what’s happening to me?” Katara choked out.

“Perhaps the spirits are punishing you for denying our traditions.” Pakku really had no heart at all, did he? Just as Katara was attempting to turn to face him, the old lady pushed her back down, and proclaimed, “Pakku, that’s a ridiculous thing to say! And absolutely the last thing you should ever say to a patient.”

The kindly old lady covered her hands in water, trying to coax it into healing her, but the bright blue light it usually took on was severely muted.

“Hmm,” she mused. Katara’s breathing faltered one more. “It is as I suspected. There is no damage to your body–“

“Then…wh–why is this…happening…to me!”

“Katara, while there is no damage to your body, there is almost certainly damage to that of another.” Katara looked up once more at the old woman through tears, only to watch her sigh, and look at Katara. “It appears that something had happened to your soulmate.”

Katara was not the only one in the room who gasped. “But… why can–why can I feel it?” Yugoda’s face momentarily betrayed her, eyebrows shooting up, displaying her shock that Katara’s thoughts were of herself, instead of the person she was supposed to love the most. _Emphasis on supposed to_ , Katara thought to herself. After this momentary slip, she quickly switched back into healer-with-excellent-and-grandmotherly-bedside-manner mode, and began her explanation.

“With any soul bond, once the soul words have been spoken, the bond strengthens. In rare instances, their connection becomes so intense that the most potent feelings and sensations of one party are shared with the other.”

 _Dammit Zuko!_ Did he know this was happening to her? Was he doing it on _purpose?!_ She knew full well that Zuko had a seemingly endless supply of determination when it came to fighting Aang, and would therefore be willing to put himself through unbearable amounts of pain just to improve his chances.

But he wasn’t here right now. It didn’t _seem_ to help him at all.

And, surely if Zuko _was_ trying to make her feel pain, he’d have done it in a more controlled manner. Something felt… dangerous about the both the level of pain, and the fact that it was all encapsulating. These thoughts may have just been intuition. And it was stupid of her to consider the pains of a boy whose main goal in life was the capture of her best friend.

Still, as Yugoda tipped a sedative into her mouth, as Pakku continued to grumble about how she must’ve offended the spirits, even as Aang returned with an angry Sokka, she couldn’t help her prevailing thought.

 _Zuko, what_ happened _to you?_

* * *

Katara was laying on her bedroll, arms stretched out to her sides as though demanding what she did to piss of the spirits this much. Questions were spinning through her mind, turning over and over again whether or not Zuko was in real danger. Trying to figure out why she even bothered to wonder that. Questioning if that meant she cared about him. And if she did care about him, _it must be on some basic, soulmate-y, subconscious level_ , why did she, and would the spirits please let her stop?

Still, she was doing much better. Instead of feeling like she’d just been runover by a herd of saber-tooth moose lions, she felt more like the stampede had occurred few weeks ago. Whether that was because of Yugoda’s sedative, or because Zuko was doing better, not that she cared, of course, was unclear. Nevertheless, she had enough energy to hear Sokka’s rant about Yue, and how she’d suddenly changed her mind about him. She even managed to muster enough energy to waterbend with Aang!

Still, as she and Aang walked to a more open space, she couldn’t help but wonder _why_ Sokka was so upset. Sure, he did have a tendency to complain about the little things, but the bitterness in his voice, especially juxtaposed against his enamored gaze from the day before, was worrying. This was more than his usual complaining for complaint’s sake. What about this situation had put real hurt and vitriol into his tone?

Later that night, once she was silently fuming about Pakku once more, and Aang’s snores were the only sound to be heard, she got her answer.

“She’s my soulmate, Katara” he whispered. “She’s my soulmate, and I blew it. She’s my soulmate, and I’m not what she wants.”

“Sokka, how could you ‘blow it’ with your soulmate? Doesn’t the concept by definition mean you’re destined to be together?”

The sigh with which he responded was plagued with despair. “Do you remember what Gran-gran said about our soulmarks?” She gave a noncommittal head jerk, and he continued. “She said that they were the spirits’ way of guiding us to our soulmates, of giving us the gentle nudge towards the one we’re tied to. So, no, I guess. Soulmates are happiest when they’re together–“ _Not in my experience_ , Katara thought bitterly,”–but they aren’t _destined_ to end up together. The only piece that’s foretold is that they will meet, and they’ll say their soulwords to each other.”

“And..” now her brother’s voice was breaking. This was _really_ bad. Sokka, for all his whinging and whining, did. Not. Cry. Ever. “A-and, I messed it up. Do you know what I first said to her? I said ‘Hi there’. _Hi there_. Do you have any idea how many people say ‘hi there’ when they first meet someone?”

“Well–“

“It’s probabaly _a lot_ , Katara. She probably has a list of people who started conversations with her that way, and is just working through it to see who she likes the most.” Even laying down, in the darkness, he visibly slumped. “And I guess it wasn’t me.”

“Oh, Sokka–“

“Look, Katara. You want to make this better. I’ve lived with you your entire life, don’t think I don’t know what you look like when you’re trying to solve a problem.” He offered a brief smile. “This just… isn’t something you can fix. Nor is it up to you to fix. I want… I want my relationship with my soulmate to be my own.”

He rolled away from her, finally ready to go to sleep. “I just wish this soulmate stuff didn’t have to be so complicated,” he muttered.

“You and me both,” she replied, turning away from her, and snuggling into the blankets. She missed his shocked expression.

* * *

Two days later, it was early in the morning, far earlier than Katara would’ve liked to wake up considering the events of the past few days. Supposed soulmate pains, comforting Sokka, attacking Pakku, comforting Sokka, and comforting Sokka some more had taken up a lot of her time and energy.

Even after the big fight, Pakku hadn’t agreed to teach her. But he also hadn’t forced her to apologize, and still seemed willing enough to train Aang. The thought that this early rise may be useless did _not_ help her mental resolve to drag herself away from the warm furs, but she managed to do so nonetheless.

She _really_ hoped Pakku had changed his mind. Apparently, Gran-gran was his soulmate, yet she still left the North Pole. Could he be lying? Could he have gotten her confused with someone else? Were the words on his wrist so mundane that correctly identifying their speaker was impossible? Whatever the cause, it certainly explained his utter disdain the lack of concern she showed for _her_ alleged soulmate.

She still wasn’t sold on the idea.

Pulling on her clothes– there really was no returning to her bedroll now– she recalled how her discussion with Pakku had ended. Hopefully, he’d grasped the concept that it was his own sexist values that had pushed Kanna away.

How Aang of all people, a child lacking discipline (as Jeong Jeong would say), managed to beat her to the training grounds was beyond her, but this soon became the last though in her mind. Panic and anger shot through her at Pakku’s initial accusatory tone, but as they began to pass the water back and forth amongst the three of them, unclouded joy took over.

* * *

Long ago, Kanna had abandoned the tradition of hiding her soulmarks. One had faded around a decade or so ago, and the outline she’d been born with remained unchanged. And, at this point, would probably remain so until her death.

Her old joints creaked as she began the day’s chores, an inconvenience she could do without, but had lost the will to concern herself terribly with ages ago. These days were a bit more difficult; Sokka and Katara– though, in all honesty, mostly Katara– being gone meant more chores left for her. Still, it wouldn’t do to dwell on such minor inconveniences. Especially not when their destinies lay outside the Southern tribe, plain as day.

Trudging across the snow, metal pot in hand, Kanna made her way outside. She scooped the freshly fallen snow into the pot with a careful, practiced hand before making her way back to the igloo to heat it up for her morning tea. But when she took off her gloves, she immediately dropped the pan. The carefully collected snow fell out as the metal clanged against the ice.

She didn’t notice or care. She was too transfixed by the sight of the characters on her wrist her filling in before her very eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I did not mean to abandon this fic for three whole months. Oops. I'm very sorry about that, especially considering that I had most of this chapter written for a while now. 
> 
> Also, I know I treat this is a serious-ish thing in the fic, but can you imagine having a soulmark that said "Hi!" or "Nice to meet you!"? Now I'm imagining a story where everyone has soulmarks but they're totally useless, except for one dude who's got "I'm Kenny" written on his wrist, and everyone's just jealous of him. But then...His soulmate's name isn't even Kenny. They were LYING!
> 
> Maybe I'll write that someday. But probably not. Given that it apparently takes me three whole months to write a chapter of this one fic, I probably shouldn't. Feel free to steal my idea, lol. 
> 
> Also also, am I the only one who thought Katara wasn't mad enough about Aang burning her? Like, Jeong Jeong told him not to do the thing, Katara told him not to do the thing, and he still did the thing! One minute she's sobbing at the river (where she thankfully discovers her healing powers), and the next she's healing Aang's tiny burn! Like... I get that it was an accident, but it was also a really dumb mistake to make considering the number of people warning him against it. But maybe that's just me ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Anyways, I hope you liked that chapter! LMK what you thought about the fancy new soulmate powers. Please comment, kudo, etc. if you want. As always, thanks for readin'!


End file.
